Boxes of Babel

I saw Babel over the weekend and was somewhat dissatisfied at the end. The individual stories were compelling (and painful), but I wasn’t sure what the unifying theme was. Why were these particular stories chosen? What was I supposed to conclude at the end, that life is painful? The performances were strong. The cinematography was lively and engaging. I wasn’t bored, but I wasn’t terribly moved, either. Crash is a far superior multi-story film. I have a lot of films to see in the next few weeks if I’m going to see all the nominated films by the Oscars.

My writing and poker playing have been put on hold these past few weeks because I’m going through everything I own and throwing out, organizing, storing, removing, taking out, putting in boxes, giving away. It’s a full on purge. It’s hard not to accumulate a lot of junk at 43. The trick is knowing what to toss. Sometimes it takes a few years to know what’s important and what isn’t. I’m going through boxes I packed up 10 years ago. So much of this stuff can just go. It means nothing to me, so goodbye. Who cares. It’s funny what holds value and what does not.

For some reason I like keeping receipts, bank statements and credit card statements. It actually helps me remember what I was doing in ’92 or ’86. I’m a bit nutty when it comes to keeping things. I have this idea of writing a sensational memoir one of these years, and having all this physical material will supposedly help me piece together the story of my life. What is the story of my life? It still hasn’t taken shape yet. Maybe it never will. Maybe that’s the story, a life that never takes shape. That might not necessarily be a bad thing. I’m not one to pigeon hole myself.
Poker...I miss it! I’m not reading my poker books or playing live or online. I know. Once the remodel is complete, I can hit it hard. Let’s get these boxes organized and out of the living room pronto.